


If You Wanna Touch Her, Ask!

by 263Adder



Series: Come On Over [1]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post-Doctor Strange, References to Wider MCU, Spoilers For Film, The Cloak Ships It, The Incredibles (2004) References, The Lord of the Rings References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 21:46:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8464180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/263Adder/pseuds/263Adder
Summary: Christine has a little chat with Doctor Strange after the fallout of the day.Just a little fluff.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a song by Shania Twain. I've been listening to Come On Over for the past couple of days while I was writing this. I saw the film the other week and just loved Christine Palmer, I wish she was in the film more! Obviously there are big spoilers for the film so don't read on if you haven't seen it! I proofread this but let me know if you spot any mistakes. Enjoy :)

After Stephen disappeared in the swirly golden thing (which she was really trying hard not to dwell on), and after he reappeared with the bald woman in robes before once again disappearing into nothingness, Christine quickly cleaned up the OR before hurrying to the chief resident, complained of an upset stomach, and was soon sent on her way home. After a day like today she deserved the afternoon off.

Unlike Stephen, whose glitzy loft had only been a short walk from the hospital in central Manhattan, Christine had a long train ride to Queens which left far too much time for her to sit, thinking back on the day's events with nothing else to distract her.

Unasked, she'd decided it was best to keep his visit off the records - there probably wouldn't be any questions as she'd been the only one to really see him, apart from a couple of nurses she'd already given a convincing story to about the drunk who'd staggered in. As for the now deceased and unidentifiable woman, she was being treated as a Jane Doe brought in by a good Samaritan. It would be fine.

Except she hadn't seen him in four months and the last time they spoke in person it hadn't exactly been a great day. What with him being a giant asshole and her storming out.

It had eaten at her after she returned to his apartment to find someone else living there. He hadn't said a word, just left to God knows where. And per usual she managed to convince herself it was entirely her fault. That he'd been in a bad place and she should have been more understanding. But really, had he been any different before the accident? It was _always_ about him. Never them.

She'd tried to convince herself it wasn't true when she went to see him that day. When he was wearing the watch she'd given him. Apparently the only one out of his vast collection he hadn't pawned off. Christine had hoped that meant he still cared, that he appreciated how she'd stuck by him through everything. The multiple surgeries, the tantrums, the depression. His words, however, contradicted that. He'd probably sold that off too, she'd told herself in the intervening time. Except he was wearing it in the OR today. Even though the face was smashed.

Maybe that had happened during whatever tussle he'd ended up in the middle of that had resulted in him being stabbed. He'd probably throw it away when he realised.

Arriving at her stop, she jumped out and quickly made her way out of the station, beginning the short walk to her place.

What Stephen did was none of her business. And what she did was none of his. She'd made that perfectly clear when he accused her of sleeping with Nick. I mean, how could he even think _Nick_  was her type?

Lightly jogging up the front steps Christine sighed in relief as she entered the warm lobby. Continuing upstairs she shook her head, as if that would be enough to get Stephen Strange out of her head.

It never worked.

Entering her apartment, she threw the keys into the bowl, shrugged off her coat and scarf, toed off her shoes and threw herself down on the couch.

It sounded like he'd joined a cult. But a cult that actually _did_ make magic.

After everything that had been happening in New York over the last few years, this really shouldn't be a surprise anymore. The Incident. Avenger's Tower. The guy dressing up as the Devil, a super strong woman killing a mind controller, a bulletproof man running around Harlem? It shouldn't be a shock. But she'd never seen any of that stuff up close. Only in the papers or TV. During the Incident she was in the hospital basement, watching those in critical condition who couldn't be evacuated. She hadn't seen a thing. She'd just sat down there, trying her best to convince Stephen to help her out on cases he usually considered beneath him.

There was no doubting that world-renowned Doctor Strange was a self-centred, egotistical ass. And sometimes Christine really hated the fact that she'd allowed herself to get sucked in by someone who, on most accounts, was so unlikeable.

Granted, he was brilliant. She'd worked with him. Seen him do incredible things.

She'd also seen him turn away people he could have helped. All because they weren't special enough, or rich enough or they might have screwed up his perfect record.

But if she'd asked him to do it. If she'd _really_ cared about a patient and asked him. He would do it. And it was those few instances that made it so difficult not to care.

They hadn't even been seeing each other anymore when he had his accident. She loved him, probably always would no matter how many times her head told her off for it. But they were incompatible. Like Stephen always said. She was a bleeding heart. She cared and he didn't. And it had hurt to be in a relationship with someone who was ultimately indifferent to the things she cared about.

He'd never done romantic, or even compassionate. They went to fancy dinners, she watched his speeches. She was more like an accessory. But when they were at the hospital and he helped her, and only her, she at least knew he cared a _little_. It just wasn't enough.

So they were friends, nothing more. Except Stephen would pry if he thought she was involved with anyone, and she'd avoid him if she heard he was spotted at an event with another woman in tow. Then it would fall apart, he'd come and find her and they'd be friends again.

They were good friends who'd once dated and it hadn't worked out. And then she found out she was his emergency contact when the hospital called to say he'd just been flown in for emergency surgery. She'd gotten there just as they entered the second of what was eventually an eleven hour surgery.

Nick and the chief of surgery wouldn't let her go into the OR, but she'd snuck into the upstairs gallery when no one was checking up on her. The moment she saw his hands a little part of her broke. Christine knew Stephen wouldn't be able to handle an injury like this. That he would feel like everything was over.

But part of her had hoped, selfishly she thought wryly, that maybe he would begin to think more about her. Something Stephen had then thrown back in her face.

So he'd left. He only started sending emails a month ago. And now he just dropped into her life again and, as she'd expected, she all ready to forgive him again.

There was a knock at the door.

Slipping off the couch in a half daze, she crossed the room and opened the door, not at all surprised to find the even more battered subject of her thoughts. It was only a matter of time, and Stephen was never the sort to procrastinate.

"Stephen."

"Christine." He said awkwardly. "I wonder, would you come with me?" He gestured off to his right which seemed brighter than the rest of the hall.

"Where?"

"It's completely safe."

"That's not what I asked." Christine peered around the door frame to look at the fluctuating golden circle floating in the corridor.

"It's hard to explain...we won't leave the city." He tacked on the end, as if that would make his request more reassuring.

With a sigh, and an internal recognition that she was never going to be able to say no to Doctor Stephen Strange, Christine leant back to grab her keys and shoes.

"Do I need a coat?"

"No, we'll be inside." Strange answered, Christine's eyes level with his tapping feet as she knelt to pull on her boots.

He moved closer to the - portal? When she moved to follow him he must have seen the trepidation in her. Somehow. Which was growth. She figured.

"It's perfectly safe. Look, I'll go first."

Decisively, he crossed the threshold, appearing on the other side in what appeared to be a rather grand foyer. Which currently looked like a minor tornado had passed through it.

"Christine?"

"Right. Portal thingy."

He stretched a hand out through the portal. "Please?"

Quickly sifting through her memory for any other time Strange had said please and coming up decidedly blank, she took the proffered hand and allowed herself to be pulled through, soon emerging beside him.

"Huh."

With a slight gesture the portal closed, and the pair were left in a grey, well decorated entrance hall littered with odd looking artefacts and what looked disturbingly like splotches of blood.

"What happened here?"

"I'll explain. Let's just. Let's go somewhere more," he glanced around the room, "clean."

She didn't notice he still had a hold of her hand until he used the connection to guide her forward, into one of the adjoining rooms. Christine missed the warmth when he let go to close the door behind them.

"I owe you, a lot."

"Understatement of the year." She muttered, moving to sit in one of the chairs beside an unused fireplace. "What is this place?"

Stephen moved to sit opposite her on one of the couches. It was actually quite a nice room, it didn't look like a cultist headquarters. But then what would that even look like?

"Well, you know how I said I went to a place in Nepal to try to fix my hands?"

"And ended up becoming Gandalf."

A little bit of her own Stephen came back in his scowl. "I'm not a wizard."

"You just magiced us here."

"I'm still not a wizard."

"Hmm." Christine shot him a shit-eating grin. She'd always been able to find a way to get under his skin.

He huffed, running a hand over his new beard - which she was still undecided on. "They have three branches. This is the New York Sanctum."

"Wow, _international_ cult. You don't do things half-assed do you?"

"Glad to see your humour has survived the day's events."

"Good to see you're still impatient. I was beginning to think you'd been replaced by a nice robot."

"Har har."

"So this is a, _Sanctum_." Stephen nodded. "But why are _we_ here?"

"Well, I'm. The Master of it."

She burst into a fit of giggles.

"Christine?"

"Oh, that is so you!" She said around her laughs. "Four months, and you're the _master_." Her head hit the back of her chair as she continued to chuckle.

"That's right, laugh it up."

Smoothing back her hair, she glanced back up at Stephen biting her lip as she suppressed another giggle. "This has been a really weird day."

"I know."

"I mean, _really_ _weird_."

"I can't believe you passed up the opportunity to say Strange."

She sighed, losing her good humour. "Why did you come to _me_?"

"I trust you."

"You've really put me through the ringer, you know." Christine swallowed, feeling a lump rising in her throat.

"I am sorry about that. My emails..."

"I know."

"Did you read them?"

"Yeah." She answered quietly. "You were a bit vague."

"Sorry. It was more to let you know that I'm, _sorry_." Stephen answered awkwardly, sounding nothing like the egomaniacal surgeon she'd used to know. He lightly brushed the collar of his _cloak_ and it quickly peeled itself off his body before moving to hover by his side, where Christine watched it, mouth slightly agape, as Stephen continued to talk.

"It was my fault that I got into the accident. I shouldn't have taken it out on you, but I was just looking for anything else to blame but myself... _Christine_?" He quickly looked between her and the cloak, quickly realising why he'd lost her focus.

"It's called the Cloak of Levitation. It's really quite friendly. If it's not trying to kill you. It actually helped me quite a lot today, it stopped one of Kaecilius' followers from...well, it helped me a lot."

" _Okay_." Christine exhaled, returning her attention to Strange. " _So_. You're a wizard with a flying cloak who runs a Sanctum in New York, who's also been stabbed today while being chased by, 'evil people'. You're also a ghost who can disappear into gold circle things, after being taught how to do so by a cult in Nepal.

"And you're actually apologising _to me_ , for something _you_ _did_ , that was _your fault_?"

Stephen half nodded, half shook his head. "I'm still not a wizard. And I wasn't a ghost, it was my astral projection. I still wasn't in a cult. But I guess I'll let you off for the technical inaccuracies littered throughout given it's only your first day." He smiled. "And yes. I know I shouldn't have taken things out on you, and I'm sorry. I don't think I ever truly thanked you for all the things you did for me in those months."

"No you didn't."

His grin widened.

" _Thank you_. I didn't deserve it."

She shrugged nonchalantly, trying to hide her complete shock in this turnaround in his personality. "You would have done the same for me. I _think_."

"I would have." Stephen said quickly.

Christine smiled shyly at him before looking back to the cloak. "You know. I once saw this superhero movie that said cloaks are a bad idea for superheroes."

"I'm not a - _what_?"

"Apparently they can get caught in elevator shafts and jet turbines."

"Please tell me you're not quoting referencing an animated film now. Lord of the Rings was bad enough."

Barking a laugh, Christine leant forward with a wild grin. " _Yes_. And now I have proof that you've watched The Incredibles and I can die happy."

"I caught a bit of it when I was working a case in paediatrics."

"A _bit_?"

He rolled his eyes. "Fine. About an hour while I sat with the patient."

"Aww. You're really just a big softie, aren't you."

Stephen huffed but didn't contradict her. They both knew he was far from being a softie. But he'd had his moments, and now it seemed he was capable of having even more of them.

"You're taking this surprisingly well."

"Well I had a shot of Linda's tequila when you disappeared the first time. The bottle she keeps in her locker and thinks nobody knows about. I figure that's helped."

"Hmm."

Christine fell back into the chair, content to sit quietly for a moment as they both looked one another over. She only broke the silence when she felt she was sinking a little too deeply into her chair.

"So you're staying here now? In New York?"

"Yes."

"As Master of a Sanctum?"

"Yes."

She nodded, a little disappointed that he wasn't elaborating further.

She looked around aimlessly for a moment, hoping he would say something. Finally she broke the silence, springing out of the chair. "Well, I guess I should head back home. You probably have stuff to sort out here. I wouldn't want to get in the way."

Looking rather taken aback, Stephen quickly stood. "Erm, if you'd like. Though you're really not,"

"It's fine. I'll just head out and hail a cab."

"No." Stephen moved to stand in the doorway. "I'll take you. It'll only take a moment."

Squeezing through the small space he'd left open, Christine made her way into the entrance hall, purposely avoiding looking at the floor. She was about to make an excuse and say her goodbyes before dashing out the door when something quickly encircled her wrist and pulled her back in the direction of the sitting room.

"Ste-" She stopped, looking down at the red fabric holding her before suddenly being jerked forward into the arms that quickly moved to stop her fall, squeaking a bit as she went.

"Oh god. I'm so sorry. It does this." Stephen made hasty apologies as the cloak swirled around them, pulling them uncomfortably close. Soon they were swaddled besides each other, stood in the doorway, both attempting to avoid eye contact.

Strange tried futilely to pull a space open but the cloak refused to move.

"I bet this cape is the stuff of Edna Mode's nightmares." Christine muttered to herself, as Stephen tried a, spell, the make the cloak move. "What does it want?"

He sighed heavily. With them this close she noticed how much more pronounced the grey at his temples had become. "I don't know. It can't exactly explain its thought process to us." Stephen looked down at her while his hands continued to tug on the fabric. "Why did you want to go so quickly?"

"Oh, I just wanted to get home. Long day."

Quirking an eyebrow was all he had to do to convey that he didn't believe her.

" _Fine_. I guess. I guess I just don't know what to do with you."

"What to _do_ with me?"

She shifted slightly against his chest, trying to create some space between them to no avail. "We worked together. Then we were _together_. Then we broke up. Then we were, friends, I guess. Then you had an accident and disappeared for _four months_. You sent random emails that didn't really say much of anything. And now you're back, apparently. I don't know what to _do with you_. Am I going to even see you after today? Or are you only going to drop by if you get stabbed again?"

"Christine,"

"Look. Don't say anything. I'll just go. If this cape ever lets me. And then we can talk later, or,"

" _Christine_."

"What?" She looked back up, not really sure when she'd looked away.

"I want to see you."

Nervously, Christine chewed her bottom lip for a moment before daring to look him in the eye. "Yeah?"

" _Yes_. I won't lie. I don't know what we're doing. Obviously it's not going to be like when we were working together - you probably won't see me _every_ day. I don't even know what I'm going to be doing at this place - it wasn't a responsibility that I asked for. But it seems right. I don't want to go back to my old life, but I want to be in New York. And I think, I think that might be because of you."

" _Might_ be?" She said sceptically. She didn't need to get strung along with maybes. Not with Stephen Strange, because she'd had plenty of that already.

"It is because of you.

"But I also know now that I'm going to be getting sucked into something, I don't know. I don't know where my place is yet in this universe. But I know after today things won't be simple. They'll be other Kaecilius', and I guess I'll have to stop them. And I don't know what position that will put you in, and if that's a position you want to be in."

"You mean a damsel in distress? Because that's really not my style."

" _I_ _know_. Doesn't mean someone won't try."

Christine fidgeted again. "Maybe I don't care."

"Maybe?"

She shrugged coyly, a little pleased that he was in her old position. "Pepper Potts manages it."

"They broke up."

"Didn't know you were one to gossip. Okay. Jane Foster."

Stephen didn't respond.

"Look. It might be fine. It might not. Let's just see how things go, alright?"

"Alright." He smiled.

Abruptly the cloak pulled away leaving them both confused for a minute before Christine laughed.

"Oh my god. The cloak ships us."

"It what?"

"It wants us together. That's why it wrapped us up." She levelled a suspicious glare at him. "Unless you put it up to it?"

"Of course not!" Stephen raised his hand. "Scout's honour."

"Well alright then." Christine said, reaching up to take his hand in hers before pulling them back out into the foyer. "I guess you can take me home now."

Smiling at their linked fingers, Stephen followed her through. "Stay a little longer. I need to talk to the people here, I could use a little support."

Christine grinned widely. "You want me to listen to your speeches again?"

"I know. Unromantic." He said, scratching his beard lightly.

"I suppose I could be persuaded. Just this once, though."

"Alright."

"And after today you can take me somewhere nicer."

"Well, I have doors that can take us anywhere on Earth. Do you want to go to the Amazon or the Caribbean?"

**Author's Note:**

> Linda's tequila is a reference to Linda Carter, another incarnation of Night Nurse which Christine Palmer also was. The two worked together. I don't think they're planning on doing that in the films just yet as Claire Temple is already fulfilling that role in The Defenders universe.  
> Yes, they didn't get together properly in this. But the song I chose as the title should have given this away - it's all about getting to know each other. I think the film would be best doing an Iron Man thing were the relationship builds, or in this case is repaired, more slowly. Anyway this was just a cute thing I tried to do - let me know what you thought. I'm loving this ship and would love to talk to any other enthusiasts for the couple :P


End file.
